Art Blog

Back in March I had a curious delivery to the Avoca Studio Gallery. It was a sheep, but not a woolly one, this was a steel sheep. 25 artists of TAG (Tinahely Arts Group) each got a 2-D life-sized sheep template to create their own individually styled art-sheep. They will make up a public art display around the town of Tinahely, Co. Wicklow. They will be on display through out the summer and be taking part in various events, including the Tinahely Walking Festival and the Tinahely Agricultural Show.

As a painter I knew I would be out of my depth working with metal. But I devised a plan and enlisted some help…

Here is the text from our Press Release:

Hung for a Sheep as a Lamb

A curious flock of sheep and lambs will be descending upon Tinahely this summer in time to join the annual Trail Walking Festival at the May Bank Holiday, 2011. These art-sheep, created by the members of TAG (Tinahely Arts Group), will be “grazing” around the town and surrounding area. Each artist, starting from a uniform steel template, has worked through the winter to create their own individual take on Wicklow’s familiar woolly friends. The results promise to be as diverse as they are quirky, while adding a new dimension to the renowned Tinahely Trail Walking Festival.

Tinahely Arts Group is a collective of artists and craftspeople, all living and working in the Tinahely area. Members and their work represent a wide and diverse range of disciplines and media, including painting and drawing, photography, sculpture, textiles and ceramics, glassware and metalwork. Formed in June 2010, the group seeks to share knowledge and techniques, pool resources, and work together on projects to promote awareness of the wealth of creativity in the region. In addition, members combine to ensure that the arts and crafts heritage of South Wicklow is visible in as many local events and tourism initiatives as possible, and to contribute their talents to community enhancement projects.

The Tinahely Sheep Flock will be comprised of approximately two dozen 2 and 3 dimensional metal sheep (almost one meter in length and more than half a meter tall, with some smaller lambs), each of which will be customized by individual artists in a variety of styles and materials. The flock will celebrate Tinahely’s history as a vibrant market town and will be unveiled at Market Square, Tinahely on the Festival Weekend, on Friday April 29th 2011 at

7.00 pm. Each sheep will have an ear tag identifying its designer, and the flock will make a striking visual display for this busy weekend. For the rest of the summer, the eye-catching sheep and their lambs will be situated out and about in Tinahely in unexpected locations around town, to be enjoyed by residents and visitors sampling our wonderful location and outdoor pursuits. In the autumn the sheep will return to the Market Square, and will be taken home to over winter with their artist owners. It is hoped that they will increase and multiply over the winter, as well as getting some refurbishment if needed, and will return to the roads and hills around Tinahely as an annual event.

Details of TAG and our members can be found on the group’s website at:

http://tinahelyartsgroup.wordpress.com.

Day 15, Monday 16^th March 2009

Painting below Hogshead.

After a few goodbyes I am on the road to home. I am looking forward to returning to the bosom of my family. I have really missed them all and managed to write a postcard for each day I was away. It takes nearly seven hours to cross the county from the Kingdom to the Garden of Ireland. I stop once for juice.

Finally at home I give my girls a big squeeze. Tomorrow is St. Patrick’s Day and we are all going to the local parade.

I want to say a special and sincere thank you to Judi Coyne who edited my Cill Rialaig Diary – thanks Jude.

Day 14, Sunday 15^th March 2009

The Skelligs, next stop America.

Today is my final day at Cill Rialaig. There will be no painting done today; I will need all my time to pack my wet canvases for transportation. The idea of my stint being over is making me a bit sad, but that’s compensated when I see how much I have achieved in two short weeks. I have definitely completed enough work to create the backbone of my upcoming solo show in Dublin. In my mind I am already moving ahead, thinking about a catalogue and a title for the show, maybe “Decade” to mark the ten years since my return to Ireland to paint her landscapes.

I stack the piles of canvases at the door, ready to load the van. Half of the canvases remain unpainted as I brought much more with me than I ever could have managed, but at least I always had the option of reaching for any format at any time. I find myself lingering to take in the view each time I am outside. It’s a beautiful day and I can see for miles.

When all the art stuff is in the van then I can start on my domestic gear and tidying up. It’s amazing how lived-in the place looks after such a short stay. When all the clearing and tidying is done the vacant studio/living area echoes.

The light is fading and I step outside again to see the sea. I’ll be back.

Day 13, Saturday 14^th March 2009

"Hogshead" oil on canvas, 50x40cm.

After breakfast I load up a selection of paintings from the past two years and head for the Siopa Cill Rialaig at the village of Dun Gagen. This is the gallery and visitors centre for the Cill Rialaig Project. Profits from the work sold there go towards the renovation and maintenance of the project. I collect the pieces I’ve had there during the past twelve months. It takes a while to complete the receipts and paperwork.

Weather wise its warm and quite clear, and now I can finally see the panorama of mountains and headlands. The irony is that today is my last painting day and I’ve got only the afternoon to get something done. The feeling of spring is too uplifting for me to be frustrated.

Now I finally get a chance to paint Hog’s Head across Ballinskellings Bay. At first it goes very wonky, and the image looks stiff and awkward. I take a big brush and blend all the colours into one, leaving just a shadow of the image. Next I use the palette knife to carve a skyline around the head. I trawl raw sienna and ochre onto the highlights of the peninsula and finally scrape white wave crests across the green, blue sea. That’s better.

I am running late as I search for some clothes without paint stains. I head for the pub arriving two minutes after kick-off. The fixture is Ireland versus Scotland in the Rugby Six Nations Championship. The game is played at a ferociously high tempo, but Ireland get ahead in the last quarter and clinch it. This result makes it four out of four for Ireland; now only Wales stand between us and the Triple Crown, the Six Nations and the first Grand Slam in fifty years. There is time for a few pints before dinner with Becky and John and I am in bed by midnight.

Day 12, Friday 13^th March 2009

Happiness is a studio with stove.

I am out of bed and straight down the stairs for a weather report – it’s a whiteout, with mist and rain beyond the front door. They said it would start bright this morning but springtime is obviously just something that happens to other people.

I need a few supplies so I head to Cahirsiveen hoping it might clear by the time I return. No joy. I stop to sketch the abbey at Ballinskellings from the drivers seat because there’s no way that I am getting out to face the South by South West sideways rain.

Later, back at the ranch I use the sketch to make a mini triptych canvas of same abbey.

Becky arrives for beer and a chat, and I light the stove. The rain stops and I am thinking of going out to paint but within twenty minuets a new weather front replaces the last.

After dinner I get stuck into some small canvases based on more historical seascapes. I am very happy with the results but more over it helps me understand the past masters. It’s late when I go to bed.

Day 11, Thursday 12^th March 2009

Vanishing headlands.

I am up early, and looking outside see every peninsula wearing cloud on its head.  The sea is flat, clear and blue. I get ready and head out, not really knowing where I am going or what I want to paint. I stop at the pier but the tide is out and the landscape is colourless. I decide to head for Valentia Island but when I reach the pass between Ballinskellings and the Glen I see it’s all cloudy and fogged up here too. If I am going to paint the fog I can do it just as well from the comfort of Cill Rialaig and don’t need to drive for hours. I am happy with my small epiphany and set up to paint outside the studio.

I work on a picture of the rocks and sea at the foot of the cliff below my feet while waiting for the cloud to lift off Hog’s Head.

Across the bay three quarters of the Hog’s Head becomes visible briefly before it disappears completely for the rest of the day. I paint the immediate headlands as they too melt into the mist. Eventually it’s just my easel and me left standing alone in the fog. I move back inside as the fog turns into rain. During the evening I finish the mountain sunrise.

Day 10, Wednesday 11^th March 2009

Painting the Skelligs from Glen Pier.

Now I remember why you shouldn’t mix your drinks. I am very slow to get my stuff together. The climate is warm, windy and dry outside but visibility remains poor yet clearer out to sea. It’s after midday before I get on the road.

I hope again to paint the large triptych of the Skelligs from Glen pier at St. Finans Bay. It’s a big task so I get out my extra large palette knife. My energy levels are low but the fresh air clears my head. I paint relentlessly knowing that if I take a break or sit down I won’t be able to get started again. I am still feeling very shaky, trawling streaks of Prussian blue into the sea.  I am very satisfied with my work, especially the fact that I actually managed to finish.

Back at base I reward myself with pizza, a glass of wine and early bed.

Day 9, Tuesday 10^th March 2009

Road to the edge of the world.

Plan A is to paint a big triptych of the Skelligs from Glen Pier. Sea fog nearly completely obscures the islands and plan A is not to be. Plan B is to travel further to Valentia Island and paint looking back towards Puffin Island. But the sun, above the sea fog, is directly in my eyes, putting an end to plan B.

I push onwards towards the Atlantic side of the island, driving down a rocky track. I walk the last 20 minutes of the track to be sure I won’t get stuck and will be able to turn the van at the end. Walking through the windswept bog I can smell the sea salt and hear the distant roar of massive waves on rocks, but there is nothing to be seen. Suddenly I am standing on the edge of Europe and realise, “oh-my-god, this must be the place Noelle was telling me about”.

A flat plane of bog simply drops away in to the ocean, where massive waves swell up and crash into cliffs. I am very excited as I walk back to collect the van and my painting gear. I park head to wind and set up my easel in the slipstream. The energy of the place is relentless and the painting is good. Giant rock formations look like over dimensional chocolate cake tumbling into the sea and the waves are the frothy cream. There is no horizon between the water and sky with the sea mist so close.

Bray Head, Valentia Island.

A little red van comes bumping down the track, past my position and across the bog at the cliff’s edge on a trail invisible to me. He knows his way around and is probably here to cut turf a few hundred yards away. I observe the ‘turf-cutter’ take out his tools and place something small on the ground in front of him. He then whacks the something across the plane towards the cliffs edge. Was that a golf ball? It slowly dawns on me that this place is the Kerryman’s private Atlantic driving range, and no turf will be cut today.

I finish the painting as the mist moves in and the rain starts. Grinning I bounce back along the pot-holed track towards my Kerry home. John from Glasgow invites me for a bevvie at his place later, to see off Stefan who is returning to Austria the next day. I am on a high after my day’s work and drop my idea of a night shift in favour of joining them mixing beer, wine and whiskey. They say  not to mix your drink – but it can be so much fun.

Day 8, Monday 9^th March 2009

Painting in the weather window.

The weather forecast was right when they said there would be a gap between fronts during Monday morning. So I am up early to avail of the weather window. I position myself on Ballinskellings pier, again, to paint the single cottage on Horse Island. It’s only accessible by boat and it looks like a very lonely place.

A man walks to the end of the pier to take in my subject matter. There’s something about his body language that says he has been here before. We chat when he comes back and the stranger tells me was born in the cottage and lived there for 14 years, and I am not surprised. In an amiable way he tells me to “paint the feckin’ house straight” before he continues to walk the headland. I am sure every step holds a memory, so I feel obliged to try.

Back at the studio I hang up the picture just as the promised rain sets in. I light the stove and attack the gannets. Later in the evening I start on a painting of the sun rising behind the inland mountains. It’s not bad so far but I am just too weary to continue. Tomorrow is another day, supposedly of sunny spells; I could use some of those all right.

Day 7, Sunday 8^th March 2009

I wake with a very fuzzy head on me today.  Rising at 10 it’s all I can do to make coffee.

The northwest wind has turned to a westerly and gales have turned to storm force mixed with hail and snow.

It suits me well that its a studio day and not to have any choice in the matter. I have breakfast then try to read my book, but this makes me dizzy. I go outside for air, but the hailstones rattle on my head and the wind wants to carry me away. I come back in and lie down – that’s better.

An hour later I feel much better and start on the book again promising myself I will get stuck into the gannet painting soon. But sooner rather than later I am on a fantastic journey; it’s “The Tennis Stars Balls” by Stephen Fry, “a gruesome romp through the canon of human wickedness” according to the Times.

Either way the gannets will have to wait. I remind myself that it is Sunday and I am on retreat and I let myself fall deeper and deeper into the Cill Rialaig pace of life.

I decide on early bed with the tennis stars balls and promise myself to make an early start tomorrow. The forecast is better for the morning with rain for the afternoon. The tempest outside only adds to my inner peace as I drift off.